Missing In Action
by trekker26233
Summary: An infantry squad from the US Army is trapped in the Feudal World and must use the Bone Eater's Well to return home. The only way to find the well is to follow the Inuyasha characters on their journey in search of the Shikon Jewel shards.
1. The OPORD

The OPORD is the format used for distributing the most mission-relevant information in the least amount of time. Read this document, because your livelihood may depend on it.

SITUATION:

ENEMY FORCES: Many, of varying shapes and sizes; generally demonic in nature.  
FRIENDLY FORCES: 1 Squad-size element from the 10th Mountain Division  
ATTACHMENTS: one monk, one half-demon, one civilian, one demon slayer, two fox-like demons, one racoon-like demon  
DETACHMENTS: None.

TERRAIN: Ranges from rocky and mountainous to thick vegetation and forest or open fields and rolling hills.  
WEATHER: Temperate climate.

MISSION:  
Squad will find a way to depart Area of Operation "Feudal World" and return to the modern era.

EXECUTION:

INTENT: It is the squad leader's intent to return his squad to combat duty in Afghanistan as soon as possible, without alienating the local population of AO Feudal World. Furthermore, the squad leader intends to leave AO Feudal World with as few casualties as possible.

DESIRED END STATE: Entire squad will return to Modern Era safely.  
CONCEPT OF OPERATION: Get home ASAP, preferably in one piece. The way that thee squad entered AO Feudal World is blocked, so another way out must be found.

SERVICE SUPPORT:

SUPPORT CONCEPT: Rely on native resources (plants, population, etc.) for all service because there is nothing else available from higher command.  
MATERIALS: All available materials are typical of a squad-sized element from a rifle platoon.  
SERVICES: Unknown or not available.  
MEDICAL EVACUATION AND SUPPORT: Not available, so don't get hurt.

COMMAND AND SIGNAL:

SUCCESSION OF COMMAND: Under normal circumstances, the squad chain of command will be:  
Squad Leader: SSG Krueger  
Alpha Team Leader: SGT Jeter  
Bravo Team Leader: SPC Hutchinson  
SPC Stuart  
PFC Heller  
PFC Johnson  
PV2 Stevens  
PVT Brennan  
PVT Quint

SIGNAL:  
The following communications equipment is available:  
Whistles. Short-range radios of limited battery life are available to squad leader and fire team leaders.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

LACE Status:

LIQUIDS: Plenty (all canteens are filled)

AMMUNITION: Each rifleman and grenadier has ten 30-round magazines of NATO 5.56mm (.223 caliber) bullets. Grenadiers carry ten 40mm grenades or flares. Machine gunners have four boxes of five hundred NATO 7.62mm bullets. Other ammunition available includes an undetermined number of 9mm bullets for M9 pistols. Smoke and frag grenades are available, each soldier carries four of each. Squad leader and fire team leaders carry flash-bang grenades.

CASUALTIES: One squad is MIA after a cave-in in Afghanistan while pursuing Taliban operatives (and they wind up in the Feudal World).

EQUIPMENT: Standard equipment for a light infantry squad.


	2. Movement To Contact

DISCLAIMER: I'm not making money on this story, so do not sue me. If you sue me, then you will join the ranks of people who are the reason we can't have nice things.

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"Sergeant, someone's out there."

"Hmmmawha?" I muttered incoherently, slowly returning to consciousness earlier than I would have preferred.

"Sergeant, someone's out there."

I jolted awake. "Direction and distance," I whispered.

"That way," PFC Heller pointed. "Maybe one hundred meters."

I heard it, too. Whoever it was, he (I think it was a "he") had the loudest footsteps and the strangest voice (think Pumba from "The Lion King" but much deeper and a little phlegmy), like he didn't care who heard him coming. Actually, it sounded like a one-sided conversation, and there was definitely someone with him. In the moonlight I could see a massive silhouette moving perpendicular to our position, followed by one or two smaller ones. And then I heard the last thing I expected to hear: "Stop. I smell humans."

The look on Heller's face told me he heard it too. I looked to my left, and I saw PV2 Stevens crouching behind a nearby tree, his rifle ready. "Heller, get everyone online." He didn't need to be told twice.

"Humans are easy targets," said the voice. "Let's have some fun with them." The voice trailed off, and I heard some weird squawking, thumping and squeaking. Weird? Just a little bit. Under any other circumstances, I would have thought that somebody was being a dick, and I would have personally gone out there and decked the idiot. But after the previous day and a half, it was increasingly clear that we were no longer in Afghanistan.

I grabbed a flashbang from my pistol belt and put my finger through the ring. Behind me, my squad was up and ready for action. I threw the grenade as hard as I could in the general direction of the sounds and silhouettes. "FLASHBANG!" I covered my ears, turned around and squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could, but the explosion still left a faint ringing sound in my ears. I took my red-lens flashlight, turned it on and waved it. "Flashlights on!" I shouted. "Let's get 'em!"

In the distance, I heard pained squealing and stomping sounds. Behind me, I heard six distinctive "click" sounds of M4 rifles switching from "safe" to "semi-automatic." We ran into the darkness and chased the creatures until we could no longer follow their silhouettes. "LOA!" I shouted into the night. In Army speak, this means 'limit of advance,' or 'this is as far as we are going; time to secure our position.' We walked back to the campsite. The machine gunners had stayed behind to protect our gear and they shined their red-lens flashlights to guide us back.

In the morning, we stowed our ponchos and sleeping bags, and set out again, following the unpaved road that we had been following for the last two days. We crossed out of the woodline into an open field of high grass. I made the necessary hand signals, and the formation spread out on both sides of the road like a double "Flying V." We crossed rolling hills and the streams that flowed between them. Behind us stood the forest and mountains. To our front were more hills, and at the end of the road, I could see rice paddies and a village in the distance. The village was our goal.

One soldier suddenly stopped and raised his fist in the air. Then another, and another, until everyone had stopped moving and raised one fist to a 90-degree angle. Alpha Team Leader, Sergeant Jeter, ran back to me and pointed to a hill about three hundred meters away. I raised my binoculars, and I could see someone standing on top of the hill. Only his head, chest and shoulders were visible above the tall grass. His hair was short and tied behind his head. He wore body armor from ages past. He carried a spear with his right hand, and he was shielding his eyes from the sunlight as he looked... directly back at me... oh crap.

The man turned around and ran down the far side of the hill. I dropped my binoculars and my rucksack, and then I waved the squad down. Bravo Team automatically formed a half-circle of protection to my rear, while Alpha Team did the same in front of me. In the high grass, they were nearly invisible. SGT Jeter and SPC Hutchinson, the team leaders, immediately came to me in the middle.

"Hutchinson, set up an ORP on the other side of the road. You're in charge for now." I always made Bravo Team pull security for some reason. "Jeter: you, Stevens and Heller are coming with me. We're going to recon that hill. Hutchinson, if you hear one whistle blast, bring everyone forward-- coast is clear. Two whistles, and we need back-up. If you hear gunfire, assault the hill. If we're not back in twenty five minutes, go to another hill to better assess the situation and determine your next course of action. If you are attacked, fall back to a more-defensible position and duke it out. Did you get all that?"

Hutchinson repeated it back to me, and my recon team headed for the hill, porting our rifles for readiness. We climbed up the hill and high-crawled across the hilltop until we could see the land below on the far side. I could see rice paddies and irrigation ditches stretching into the distance, surrounding a village in the center. I was about to blow my whistle and signal "all clear" but then Jeter said, "Where are the farmers?"

I had thought the absence of farmers meant the coast was clear. I turned the binoculars to the village, and I saw people coming out of the houses with spears, swords, and farming implements. All of them wore clothes that would never have been in fashion in the United States-- because the US was too young. Some of them had chainmail armor, a few wore plated armor. Most of them were wearing cloth robes. Two people stood out from the rest of the villagers, though--

One person was a black-haired girl wearing a Japanese school uniform. She looked completely out of place, and perfectly harmless (in direct contrast with the people around her)... except for the bow and arrows she carried. Standing near her was an individual with hippy-style dreadlocks and long white hair on his head, but lacking facial hair. This individual's bright red outfit was the other reason he stood out. Both of them stood near the center of the gathering throng, where the sentry stood, pointing wildly at the hill my recon team occupied. I checked my watch: we had eight minutes to get back to the ORP. "Time to make tracks."

Quickly, we crawled down the hill, crossed the road and sprinted across the field, all the way to the ORP. I didn't look back until we met up with the rest of the squad-- the villagers were just getting to the top of the hill. I don't think they saw us. We briefed the rest of the squad on what we had seen, and we concluded that the sentry had probably thought we were some kind of raiding party. Then again, with our camouflage face paint we might have looked like that. The schoolgirl was an unknown, and the guy in the red might have been the village idiot. I still wanted to get into that village to get our bearings, though.

We sat in the field for the rest of the day, munching MREs, conducting "field hygiene" (dry-shaving, and wiping the sweaty places with baby wipes) and taking turns sleeping until nightfall. The stars were bright in the night sky, no city glows or other light pollution anywhere on the horizon. The moon was in its waning gibbous phase. I waited for it to set below the horizon before we made our next move. In the distance, the sentry was back on his hill, with a fire burning next to him, the flames flashing orange against the night sky. His night vision was effectively ruined. We picked up our rucksacks and walked slowly, crouching, through the tall grass in a single file toward the hill, parallel to the road. We did not need night vision goggles for this.

We stopped near the base of the hill, maybe fifty meters from the road. I dropped my ruck and signalled Jeter to follow me. We low-crawled up the hill. We crossed the road, and I signalled Jeter to go around behind the Sentry, while I went around the front. Suddenly I heard the sentry's voice: "Who's there? Show yourself!"

I lay still, and I knew Jeter had also frozen. For a second, I heard the high-pitched sound of metal-on-metal-- the sentry had drawn a bladed weapon. I took out my whistle and blew. In that instant, the sentry's attention was drawn toward the grass in front of him, and Jeter leaped on him from behind. I joined the fray, and quickly pinned the man face down, with one hand over his mouth to keep him from calling for help, and the other twisting his arm behind his back. Jeter picked up the sword and examined it in the firelight. He blew two short bursts on his whistle: the signal for everyone else to get on the hill.

"That sword could have hurt somebody," I whispered in his ear. "Listen to me carefully, and nobody needs to get hurt tonight. Do you understand? Nod your head and do not try to speak." The man nodded. Behind me, I heard the squad coming up the hill and forming a security perimeter around us.

I whispered into the man's ear again. "Good man. You made the right choice. Tonight, me and my men will sleep here on the hill. When the sun rises, you will lead us into the village. Do you understand?"

The man nodded, and tried to speak. I clamped my gloved hand tighter over his mouth and twisted his arm harder.

"What did I say about talking?" I hissed. "Did I say you could talk?"

The man shook his head and submitted, so I loosened my hold on his arm a little bit. "Good. I do not want to kill you, but if you do not listen carefully to me, then you might get hurt. Do you understand?"

He nodded again.

"I will say this again, and this time you will not interrupt me. Do you understand?"

He nodded.

"Tonight, me and my men will spend the night on this hill. You will stay with us. If you try to leave, we will kill you. If you call for help, we will kill you. But, if you behave, then no one will even touch you. Capeesh?"

The man nodded.

"Good. I am going to let you stand up now. Remember what I said about trying to run away." I released his mouth and arm and stepped back. The man lay still for a second before pulling himself into a sitting position. "Who are you?" He asked.

"You can call me Mike," I replied. "These," I said, gesturing to my squadmates who were lying prone around us, "Are my friends. What's your name?" I sat down across from him. Someone had brought my ruck up from the bottom of the hill.

"My name is Yamato." He hesitated before speaking again. "Mike, why are you letting me live? You can easily attack the village, and yet you are staying here until everyone wakes up."

"We are soldiers, not thieves. We don't just kill everyone we meet."

"You are demons!" He shouted hoarsely, only just remembering the consequence for shouting. Jeter gave him a stern look.

"Demons?" If this conversation was taking place anywhere else, I would have laughed. Combat zones really take all of the fun out of everything. "What makes you think we're demons?"

"Do you insult me? People are not green and dark-colored!"

"What--?" I started. "Ooohhh..." I took my gloves off and wiped my hand across my face. The camouflage paint smeared onto my hand. Yamato looked terrified. "It's just paint," I explained. "It washes off." Now I laughed. Yamato did not look the slightest bit amused. I poured a few drops of water from my canteen onto my hand and wiped it on my face to get more of the paint off. Yamato had an expression of pure terror on his face. To him, I must have looked like I was transforming or something. But if I looked scary, SGT Jeter must have been really intimidating-- Jeter is African-American.

"My friends and I are like hunters," I tried to explain. "We wear paint so we can't be seen by our enemies."

"You ARE demons," Yamato hissed with a certain finality. He would not be convinced.

A faint glow appeared in the sky on the horizon-- dawn was coming. "Well," I said, "Demons or not, you are still going to lead us into the village when the sun rises. I want to meet with the village leaders. And you WILL cooperate." I was starting to feel fatigued, so I turned to Jeter, who was pacing nearby. "Sergeant, take charge. Alpha and Bravo teams will rotate thirty-minute rest cycles, Bravo Team first." Jeter just nodded, and I was out before I hit the ground.

I woke up twenty-nine minutes later of my own accord, and instructed Jeter and the rest of Alpha Team to get a few minutes of rest before we moved into the village. Yamato was sitting cross-legged, hunched forward with his eyes closed. He had not moved since I had allowed him to sit up. I waited until the villagers began to exit their homes before rousing my tired squad and Yamato. I looked back at the village, and it occurred to me that the whole lot of us probably looked a mess. Well, that's what happens when you spend several days in the field.

I picked up my ruck and my weapon, and stood at attention in the road. "FALL IN!" Everybody gave me dirty looks for doing that, because drill and ceremony is a necessary evil rooted in the bowels of military tradition. Still, they picked up their gear and formed two ranks, Alpha Team in front and Bravo Team standing behind them. I noticed Yamato standing behind the formation, still looking like a sad puppy. "Hey Yamato, join me over here. You are going to lead us into town." He shuffled over to me, avoiding eye contact until I gave his sword back-- he looked pleasantly surprised after that. "Guys, we're going into town, and we need to give a good impression. That means no binge-drinking, no sex --protected or otherwise-- with their women, and none of the other unspecified shenanigans. We are guests, and we will treat our hosts with all respect that is due them. Hooah?"

"Hooah!" The squad responded in unison.

"Left... face." The soldiers pivoted to face the village. "Port... arms." We raised our rifles to chest level to carry them more easily. "Forward... March. Your left... your left... your left, right... They say that in the Army, the food is mighty fine..."


	3. Sango Learns About Rifles

CHAPTER 2: Sango Learns About Rifles  
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"Kagome, get out here," said Inuyasha, poking his head through the doorway of the house. "Someone's coming." Kagome picked up her bow and quiver as she stood, and walked onto the porch. Mirouku, Sango, Shippo and Kirara were already outside. Everyone in the village was looking toward the fields. Kagome turned to see where they were looking and saw the reason for their concern. Two columns of four people dressed in green approached, all of them carrying large green backpacks, and wearing green helmets, and carrying... rifles? Were they soldiers? From the Present? How did they get here?

"I don't sense any demonic aura coming from them," said Mirouku.

"I think they're warriors, or demon slayers," observed Sango. "But I don't recognize the armor."

"They are soldiers from my era!" Kagome realized aloud. "But what are they chanting?" Kagome asked.

"Shh! Listen!" said Inuyasha.

"....'Old King Cole'?" Shippo echoed, as the soldiers marched past them.

"A nursery rhyme?" Kagome wondered... And then she noticed the difference: because there is no beer in the original rhyme.

Yamato indicated a house where he said one of the village elders lived. I called the squad to halt and assume the parade rest position in front of the residence, just as the elder came outside. "Who is this?" he asked, rather surprised.

"My name is Mike," I replied. "My friends and I ask your permission to rest in your village for a few days, and then we will be on our way."

The elder narrowed his eyes, measuring each person in the formation. We must have looked like Martians to him, with our body armor, and smeared camouflage face paint. "You may stay with us," he said. "You can wash yourselves in the stream that flows through the orchard."

"Thank you very much," I said to the elder. "We appreciate your generosity.

I turned to the squad. "Fall out to the orchard over yonder and conduct hygiene. Bring your gear with you. Fall out!" The whole way to the orchard, we received dirty looks from the villagers, but they were quick to turn away when they thought we were looking. I wonder why.

Awhile later, we returned to the village, all paint and dirt washed off. I had forgotten how light my skin really was, after spending so many days without a shower or bath. The locals generously invited us to sleep in their homes, so we broke up into buddy-teams -- that is, groups of two people -- and moved our gear into the different houses. Jeter, Hutchinson and I moved in with the elder and his wife. We took off our boots and sat down, while the elder's wife prepared food for us. We were no longer wearing our body armor-- just our ACUs minus the boots and socks.

"So," said the elder. "Where have you travelled from?"

"We just arrived from the Swat Valley," I said. Surely we were still in the Afghanistan-Pakistan border region. How could they not know us?

"Swat Valley?" said the elder. "I have never heard of that place. What is it like there?"

So, maybe we had crossed into Pakistan or something... but surely they know of the valley? I glanced nervously at my team leaders. Jeter answered the question for me: "Well, it's a large canyon that follows the border. The Taliban are trying to ambush vehicles passing through, and failing miserably."

The elder only looked more confused after that. Something was definitely wrong. "You have travelled far, indeed," said the elder. "There are no canyons anywhere near here. And these Taliban sound like clumsy demons, much unlike the ones here. What are 'vehicles'?"

"They are carriages that move by themselves, and transport people and cargo."

"Vehicles sound incredible!" said the elder. "What do they look like? Where can you get them?"

I could already see where this conversation was going-- this old man thought he was clever enough to convince us to let him have trucks or something... but that couldn't be right because everyone could see we had not brought any with us... and what are these demons the natives like to talk about? "Vehicles are extremely rare," I said. "They come from distant lands. What are demons?"

Now, the elder looked positively shocked. Was it something I said? "WHAT ARE DEMONS?!" He asked incrdulously. "They are horrible monsters that attack people and destroy villages. They can look like anything, and they are EVIL!"

"Oh," I said thinking quickly. "We call them monsters where we come from. We had one that looked like a gigantic lizard, and it destroyed a city. There was also huge monkey that could climb large buildings." Yay Hollywood: you finally did something helpful... sort of. The elder looked less shocked now, but not comforted. "We killed them, of course," I said quickly. The elder just gave me a look that said "No really?"

I put my armor back on before I left the elder's house, and I realized that some of my trust may have been premature. Anyway, later in the day I ran into the girl with the modern school uniform. My instinct said she might be more helpful.

She had just left one of the houses with a couple other people, and they seemed to be leaving the village. "Hey!" I called after them. They stopped and turned around so I ran after them.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Mike. Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Ummm, sure," she replied. "I'm Kagome."

"I'm Sango," said the girl with the massive boomerang.

"I'm Shippo," said the vertically challenged redhead. And I mean seriously short-- he barely came up to my knees. Next to this Shippo character was a yellow fox-like creature (without a long snout) with large red eyes and two tails. The creature purred.

"I'm Mirouku," said the monk. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir." I noticed his right hand was wrapped in a cloth.

"I'm Inuyasha," said the boy with the longest white hair I had ever seen. I noticed he carried a sword, and his yellow eyes reminded me of Brent Spiner from Star Trek.

"Kagome you said? Can we talk now?"

"Okay...?" she replied.

"How did you get here?" I asked. "You look completely out of place here."

She told me a long winded story that began with falling down a well, and I had to ask her to explain everything at least twice. At the end of her story, I only understood two things: we were officially out of Afghanistan, and the only way back and forth was through a well. I swear I read this almost verbatim in a Lewis Carroll story way back when I was in grade school.

"Can we follow you back to the well where your story began?" I asked.

"Well," Kagome began, and her friends gave me strange looks. "We aren't going directly back there. You see, we're trying to find the rest of the Shikon Jewel shards. Besides, how did you get here?" She asked.

"You already know about the War Against Terrorism, right?" I asked. Kagome nodded, but I had to explain it to her friends. "So we were chasing terrorists into a cave. We did not find the terrorists, but suddenly the cave collapsed. We could not move the debris, so we tried to find another way out. And that's how we got here."

"So, you're like demon slayers from Kagome's time?" The girl named Sango suggested.

"Uhhhhh sure... what are these demons everybody is calling us, anyway?" I asked.

I could not understand half of her answer, but it seemed to come down to large creatures vaguely resembling real animals, except bigger, generally more violent and utilizing magical abilities. Hmmm... And to think that the creatures we encountered two nights ago did not sound entirely human... oh snap! We had been luckier than I realized at the time. At least they were more patient and understanding than the elder had been.

"What kind of weapons do you use?" she asked.

"All kinds of weapons," I answered. "Our standard weapons are Colt M4 assault rifles with 5.56 milimeter bullets."

Sango blinked twice, and looked at me like I had sprouted another head. Kagome also picked up on this, and tried to explain: "A rifle is a hollow stick loaded with pellets. When you pull the trigger, the rifle goes 'BOOM!' and the pellets fly out and kill whoever is standing in front of it."

"Can I see one of these rifles?" Sango asked.

At that moment, PFC Johnson wandered into the conversation. "Hey guys," he said. "What's up?"

I seized the opportunity. "Private, unsling your weapon." Johnson handed me his rifle, with an expression of the utmost confusion on his face. Holding it in the below-ready position, I pulled back the charging handle and locked it in place to inspect the chamber. I raised the barrel in the air, and a bullet fell out of the chamber. I glanced at Private Johnson, and he had a look of terror and shock on his face. I released the bolt, which moved forward with a loud "SLAM!" and I picked up the bullet. "Private, what is this?" I did not wait for his answer. "Put your face in the dirt and don't stop pushing until I tell you to."

"Yes, Sergeant." He dropped where he was standing and assumed the front-leaning rest position. He would be doing push-ups for awhile. Turning back to Kagome and her friends, I explained: "Leaving ammunition in a rifle is one of the most dangerous things you can do, because an accidental discharge could kill somebody. See this?" I held up the bullet. When one of these is in the rifle and the rifle is discharged, this piece of metal flies out, and punches a hole in whoever or whatever happens to be in front of it. If the weapon is accidentally fired, then you could hurt or kill a friend. And that's bad."

"So what happens when you run out of those things?" Sango asked. "Aren't you helpless then?"

"That's why each of us carries three hundred bullets, and the machine gunners carry two thousand. By the way, how long do you intend to stay here at this village?"

"We'll be staying here a few days," said Mirouku. "There's a demon that preys on the villagers here."

"I see," I said. Meaning he might as well have been speaking Swahili. But if they stayed a few days, then we could get some R&R while we waited with them "Private, you can stop pushing now," I told PFC Johnson. I turned to Sango and said "Is that really a massive boomerang you're carrying around?"

"Yes," she replied. "It's made of demon bones, and it's my weapon of choice when I fight demons."

"Does it actually work?" Johnson asked. "I mean, I've never seen one that big."

Sango took it off her back, spun it around her head, and threw it. I did not think it would ever get off the ground, but it was amazing to watch in action. It flew gracefully and returned to Sango, who retrieved it with seemingly no effort. I bet it took her years to master that trick.

My squad and I kept busy for the rest of the day-- cleaning our weapons, comparing notes with Sango and her friends, meeting the villagers... I spent some time helping them in their work-- some of the houses looked like meteors had hit them, and the villagers were rebuilding. I learned that the damage had been done by demons, which scared me a little bit.

At nightfall, we retired back to the houses for sleep.

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A/N: This chapter was more about establishing the plot and saying what needed to be said. The story should improve from this point forward.


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